With Whom We Spend Our Lives is LIVE!!!

New Release ~ Until It Doesn't by Zoë Marshall

Heroes To Swoon For ~ Blazing Love

Blazing Love – Chantel Rhondeau 

Laura’s attempting to rebuild her life after grieving for her murdered fiancé. Fireman Thayne is the most eligible bachelor in Sayle—strong, loyal, and sexy as hell. He’s determined to show Laura how to love again, but an arsonist ups the stakes, risking more than their romance. 

Finally reaching her apartment building, Laura trotted up the sidewalk, noting the overgrown grass. Her landlord sucked. How hard was it to take care of the yard? She wondered if Thayne took one look at her crappy little building and decided she was pathetic. Which wouldn’t be wrong, really. Most days, I feel pathetic.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but after her fiancé’s murder, her panic attacks began, changing her life forever. Laura had a much harder time being the carefree girl she used to be.

She stepped inside the building and turned down the inner hall, unable to stop the smile that crept onto her lips when she saw Thayne sitting in front of her apartment door.

“Hey,” she called, hurrying toward him. “Sorry, I’m late. I didn’t have your number or I would have texted.”

He stood, picking up a basket from the floor. “That’s something we’ll have to remedy. Friends should have each other’s numbers.”

His deep voice and the way his mouth turned up slightly at the corners made her heart hitch for a beat or two. Her body wanted to be anything but friends with the sex god. No, no. He’s off limits. I can handle this. Just friends. Friends are good. Friends are great. I need friends... and sex. I need sex! Lots and lots of it. We don’t have to have a relationship to take advantage of his sexiness, do we?

Laura reached the door and stuck the key in the lock, thankful Thayne couldn’t read her thoughts. Even though she’d been on her own for far too long, that didn’t give her the right to jump him. Shaking her head a bit at herself, she swung the door open. “I was afraid you’d leave before I made it home.”

“I was afraid you hoped I’d go. I know I forced you into this.”

The wide smile on his face didn’t look apologetic or worried. Laura wondered how long Thayne would have waited.

“We had some last-minute emergencies, and Vicky decided to take them since we need the business. I wasn’t avoiding you.”

She led the way into the apartment, glad she’d vacuumed the floors yesterday. Her dining table was just inside the doorway; her living room split into two parts to serve as both rooms. A half wall separated the kitchen from the living space, and Thayne headed to it without hesitation.

“I hope grilled baby red potatoes and medium rare steak is okay.” His grin didn’t leave his face as Thayne made himself at home opening cupboards in the kitchen. “I cooked everything the way I like it, and brought fresh salad, too.”

“I’m not picky.” She opened the carrier and took out her latest foster cat.

The black and white kitten meowed pitifully, past ready for her dinner. At least she was up to eating again. The poor thing had been half-starved and too weak to move when Thayne first brought her into the clinic.

Without warning, the heat of Thayne’s chest pressed against Laura’s back, his arms reaching around her as he stroked the kitten’s neck. “She looks better. I didn’t think she would live when I pulled her out of that drainage ditch.”

Laura’s heart pounded hard, feeling like it hit her breastbone. What was he doing? This didn’t feel friendly. It felt... good. So good. Even while afraid she might pass out from a panic attack,

she wanted to lean against Thayne’s chest and lose herself in some human contact. In his contact.

She forced herself to take a step forward, though her betraying body rebelled, craving his warmth. “She’s lucky you found her when you did. It was nearly too late. Vicky put her on IV fluids, and we got some food in her. I think she’ll be fine and make a good pet for someone once she’s fully recovered. I need to feed her before trying your steak.” Kitten talk. That’s safe. That’s friendly.

“Well, hurry. I can’t wait to give it to you.” Thayne winked and turned back into the kitchen.

Burying her face into the kitten’s soft fur, Laura tried to hide her blushes. This wasn’t working. Thayne didn’t intend to stay friends, obviously. How long could she hold out? He was perfect. Everything a girl could want. Why couldn’t he be a nice accountant or retail store manager? Something safe where she’d never have to fear getting a call from his boss to tell her he died? Vicky’s advice was to sleep with him and forget her ‘silly rules.’ But Vicky didn’t know what Laura went through seven years ago.

Going into the kitchen, Laura gave Thayne a wide berth as she snuck past him on her way to the refrigerator. She set the kitten on the floor and opened the door, pulling out the half-empty can of food.

“Did you give her a name?” Thayne asked.

Laura grabbed a cat dish from the cupboard and shook her head. “I don’t like to get too attached. I’ll only have her for a few weeks, and she’ll go to a new home. They can name her. I call her Kitty—I call them all Kitty.”

“I like Snips. I used to have a cat named Snips when I was a kid. Sort of looked like Kitty.”

“Then maybe you should adopt her.” Laura gave Kitty her food, standing up to find Thayne only inches away.

He ran his hand over her temple, pushing the hair back from her face. “I wish I could have a cat, but I work long hours, and she’d be lonely and hungry by the time I got home. I’d need myself a partner who could help take care of her.” He leaned in even closer, and Laura smelled mint on his breath. “Since we’re friends, maybe you can help me find the right girl. Someone to raise Snips with.”

Gulping, Laura was sure Thayne would kiss her. Even though she admitted when accepting the dinner that a kiss might happen sometime before the night was through, she hadn’t expected it this fast.

“Sure. Friends do that kind of stuff.” She put her hands against his chest and pushed him away gently. “Maybe I can help. What’s your type of girl?” Things had to stay friendly. Either that or she’d need her anti-anxiety pills. She already felt like she needed to change her panties.

Thayne shrugged and turned back to dishing up their plates. “You.” 

We all need a hero! Preferably a hot, muscled, romantic one who's not afraid to fight for the woman he loves. From firefighters to athletes, and artists to rockers, these swoon-worthy heroes will keep you on your toes and weak in your knees. Slip into a reading adventure that will have you panting for more: fun, steam, and thrills. 

Authors include:

Jade Kerrion, Chantel Rhondeau, 

Rachelle Ayala, Lyssa Lane,

Michele Shriver, P.C. Zick, K.S. Thomas,

Stacy Eaton, Melinda Curtis, Jennifer

Saints, and Julie Leto

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00PWXGA1I 

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00PWXGA1I/ 

Amazon CA: http://www.amazon.ca/dp/B00PWXGA1I 

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I Call Him Brady - And so it begins...

ONE

I walked as fast as I could without breaking into a jog while I maneuvered my way through the terminal. I’d always hated airports. Today, I hated them even more than usual. It was only a matter of time before someone would recognize me and the last thing I needed just then was a slew of fans following me all the way back to the check-in counter, not that I wasn’t grateful for their admiration. After all of the years I’d spent in LA, I knew better than anyone how fickle fame could be. Although, it wasn’t ever the fame I was interested in.

The only son born to an award winning film director and a former super model, I was practically Hollywood royalty. My face had been plastered on the covers of magazines since before I could walk. By the time I was old enough to understand what it all meant, it had become so second nature to me that I didn’t think twice when my then model turned fashion designer mother handpicked me as the new face of her up and coming clothing line for the fashion forward teens of America. Having inherited my mother’s good looks and my father’s charm and work ethics, I guess I was the obvious choice.

From there, the modeling gigs just kept rolling in until one night when I was seventeen and out with a bunch of guys. We were on our way to a game when we passed a billboard displaying none other than yours truly wearing next to nothing along with my mother’s signature pout. It was the same pout I’d seen her practice in front of the mirror since I was in diapers, the same pout I had inadvertently and unknowingly copied. My friends were kind enough to ignore the abomination hanging some forty feet above us, but I don’t remember ever feeling more humiliated in my entire life.

I gave up modeling shortly after and then took off the second I graduated. I had foolishly believed that I could run away to some obscure part of the world and backpack my way from Point A to Point B while enjoying what would have been my very first taste of actual privacy. However, it was too late. The fame monster of Jack Cole had been brooding for nearly two decades and there was no escaping it. So, I reluctantly boarded the private jet my father had sent for me and did the next best thing to hiking in Europe…doing charity work in South Africa.

Initially sick of people, I signed up to volunteer at a Big 5 Wildlife Conservation in the Limpopo Province. Honestly, it was to date, one of the most incredible experiences of my life and I became addicted to this simple and isolated way of living where I gained a completely new and unexpected perspective.

When my stay on the Conservation came to an end, I was nowhere near ready to leave and head back to the life I had left behind. However, I was ready for more human contact, and so I volunteered again, this time dedicating myself to orphanage education in Cambodia.

I was only nineteen at that point, so my teaching skills were limited. This left me to pass on the only knowledge I had acquired growing up with parents who had the combined knowledge of all things photography, given their vast experiences from both behind and in front of a shutter. So, after hitting up every one of my parents’ socialite friends and accumulating a large variety of cameras and lenses, I started my new journey as a teacher.

It wasn’t long before I was seeing more life from behind a camera than I was without one. Things just looked different when viewed through that tiny window and its red square center. I was able to focus in on the most remarkable details and see new aspects of the world I had missed before. I discovered the beauty of the human face and each intricate perfection visible through its most vulnerable expressions. I unveiled treasures that had been buried only by my own ignorance and obliviousness. In short, I found myself and I learned far more from the children I taught than they ever could have learned from me.

When I returned home, I was twenty-one and I finally knew what I wanted to do with my life. Photography had given me an intimate look at people and their emotions and I had been fascinated and touched by what I’d seen. So much so that I wanted to learn to emulate those feelings, to someday touch others. I wanted to act.

While I preferred theater, I learned early on that the money wasn’t on the stage but in front of the camera. And given my father’s connections, frankly, there were too many offers to turn down. So these days, much to my disappointment, most of my acting took place without a live audience.

Now, as I was scurrying along the crowded halls of the airport, I was eager to avoid an audience all together. Ducking while talking to my buddy Crisco on the phone, I only lifted my head as much as I needed to in order to keep track of where I was going. When I spotted the doors closing on an empty elevator, I jumped at the chance for temporary seclusion.

I slid my hand inside just as the gliding door was about to touch, setting off its sensor and causing it to retract its motion instantly. I took one step in and paused. The elevator wasn’t nearly as deserted as I had thought. A woman and her daughter were standing on the inside corner, where they had been previously hidden from my view. Oh well, it was too late now. I barely glanced at either of them as I joined them inside the elevator, still  mid-conversation on my phone.

“...No, man. That's what I'm trying to tell you. I get here thinking I'm going to surprise her, only I'm the one who ends up surprised when the old friend from college she came to visit turns out to be her ex!” I was still reeling from that conversation. Thank God I had called her the moment my plane landed, otherwise I probably would have walked into her hotel room and seen things that could not be unseen.  

“Yeah...well, whatever. It's done and over with now...No, I'm still here at the airport. Yeah, I'm just headed there now.”

The elevator had already stopped again. Reacting without thinking, I looked up just as the doors slid open revealing a group of people, two of whom seemed to recognize me right away. In spite of the evidential sparkle of excitement in their eyes, neither of the newcomers said anything to me, but repeatedly exchanged knowing glances with one another as though they were communicating via their brainwaves.

I quickly averted my eyes and turned inward toward the corner.

“Shit, I gotta go,” I blurted into the phone and hung up. Attempting to look busy to avoid interacting with the people now standing within a two foot radius of me, I continued to play with the screen of my phone as though there were some incredibly interesting things happening there. I was so engulfed in this ploy to appear distracted, I didn’t even notice when the woman and her daughter exited the elevator.

*

Holy Shit. That’s freaking Jack Cole! What do I do? Nothing. I do nothing. Shit. Am I blushing? Don’t blush. Do NOT blush. What am I talking about?! Forget blushing! Don’t faint! I could already feel the telltale signs of a full blown anxiety attack announcing themselves via the heart pounding out of my chest like a sledgehammer and the cold numbness setting in around my ankles.

My first instinct was to shut my eyes and take several deep breaths, but then I realized how insane I’d look and squashed that plan immediately. Instead, I focused all of my attention on the silver metal doors ahead. Still slightly maniacal, but then Mr. Cole seemed too wrapped up in his own problems to take notice of mine.

With my eyes steadily staring straight ahead, my ears were free to drop in on his conversation with unconscionable ease. My frantic heart froze the moment my brain registered what my wandering ears had heard. Jack Cole had dropped his model of the month girlfriend. He was single! I had to remind myself that in all reality, this information – however exciting it seemed – actually would have no bearing on me or my relationship status.

In the midst of forcefully hiding all of my Jack Cole madness, I had forgotten one minor detail. The tiny person to my left, who at any given moment could glance up and recognize the man of my every fantasy and sell me out faster than a girl scout peddling cookies to a pothead.

My daughter was no evil genius, but she was five with no inhibitions and a knack for listening in on my grown up conversations. She wouldn’t think twice before blurting out his name and asking him to marry me. In fact, I’d once had a daydream just like that, only in my warped and lonely mind, he had found her so adorable he had said yes on the spot. To be fair, my daughter didn’t hear ‘no’ from people often, something I hoped would work in my favor one day, but I digress.

I carefully lowered my gaze from the safety of the elevator doors to take a peek at Jessa. Much to my relief she was far too involved in chatting with Mermella the mermaid to pay attention to anything else.

Just as my eyes re-centered themselves on the shiny metal ahead, the door slid open revealing a large group of people eager to board the elevator. This was my floor. I had two choices. Either stay on and ride the elevator aimlessly in hopes of basking in Jack Cole’s presence a moment longer like a stalker, or get off.

Before my head had a chance to decide, my body took over, moving on autopilot and taking me onward as I had originally programmed it to do when I first boarded the moving metal box.

I said a silent goodbye to my once in a lifetime opportunity with each painful step I took. It wasn’t until I had safely removed myself from what had been loaded with potential for the most humiliating scene of my life, that I finally turned around to look at Jack full on.

I was still mesmerized by the sight of him when I watched as one of the new passengers opened his mouth, about to talk to Jack.

“Hey, aren't you Ja-” the words never fully formed before I interrupted him.

“Brady, are you coming?”

Unaware that he was being spoken to, Jack maintained his iron clad focus on the screen of his cell phone, while I began to panic. What the hell was I doing? This was insane. Not only that, but if I wanted to avoid looking like a complete ass at this point, I would have no choice but to fully commit and hope it didn’t end with me being hauled off in cuffs by airport security.

“Brady!” I repeated, this time more sternly.

At last he looked up. Still not entirely sure what was going on, his eyes darted back and forth between myself and the strangers beside him.

“Come on, this is us.” I was looking directly at him. Jack was about to say something when I gestured for him to follow me, now with a slightly annoyed expression to go with it. I watched as he took one more look at the guy who had been about to chat him up and then quickly fell into step behind me just in time to avoid the elevator doors closing in on him.

“Thanks. I really appreciate that.” He was looking around like a nervous animal trying to figure out his next move.

“No problem. I just got the impression that you didn't feel like being on display at that particular moment.” Instantly realizing how it had sounded, I quickly added, “not that I was eavesdropping.”

He looked at me and chuckled, clearly amused by my suddenly frazzled exterior and uncomfortable smile. “No, it's fine. I was standing two feet from you, of course you heard.”

Another crowd was headed for the elevator and so I gently led my daughter over toward a corner and out of their path.

“Anyway, where did you need to go? I'm sure we can get you there without you getting mauled by a bunch of crazed fans.” I nodded at the most recent group of twenty something women clearly here on spring break and anxiously waiting for the heavy sliding doors to open.

Jack barely dared to glance in their direction. “Oh yeah? How do you plan to do that? Keep calling me Brady?” he whispered, sounding as though he was half joking, half hoping it was a viable option.

I shrugged. “If it works...but I was also thinking we could be a couple of Euro tourists here from Germany for the next go around.” I lifted the hand still clutching my daughter’s and pointed onward as I began to move again. It seemed almost automatic that Jack fell into step beside us.

“Hm, not sure that's going to work,” he said shaking his head. “My German's not quite believable.”

I had to bite back a grin remembering the movie in which he had played an international assassin. His German had been borderline pathetic, and I had laughed hysterically every time I had heard him utter another butchered line. Now hardly seemed like the time to bring that up though.

I leaned in toward him, feeling confident. “No worries, mine is pretty good. As long as you can nod and add a few 'Uh-huh's' in there every so often we can totally pull it off.”

“You’re telling me you speak German?” His disbelief was only slightly hidden by the fact that he was now clearly intrigued. “Why?”

“I’m German,” I replied very matter of fact. “It’s kinda my thing.” I looked up and spotted another wave of people coming our way. “Meanwhile, let’s start by blending in with all the families on vacation.” I bent down to whisper to my daughter. “Jessa, baby, do you think you could hold Brady's hand?”

Her little nose crinkled as she knitted her dark brown brows in confusion. “But Mama, his name isn't Brady...it's Jack Cole!” she whispered back loudly.

And there it was.  I quickly lowered myself down to be face to face with her, in hopes that Jack wouldn’t see me turn beet red, or worse, express an interest in hearing why my five year old had recognized him. His work, while extensive, had yet to include a family friendly project.

“I know his name is Jack,” I explained quietly, “But we're playing pretend, okay? So, his new name is Brady. What name do you want?”

Jessa thought it over for a moment. Then her eyes lit up as she announced, “Ooh, I want to be Rapunzel!”

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing. “Huh...how about Jasmin instead?” It was a solid compromise.

“Okay! What about you Mama?”

“I think I'm going to stick with Mama.” I gently tucked a long strand of dark blonde hair back behind her ear and kissed her cheek before I stood up again.

“Is that what I'm calling you, too?” Jack was smirking.

I’d seen that look on his face a hundred times, but on screen was nothing compared to seeing it in person. It set off a storm of butterflies in the pit of my stomach and the jackhammer had returned to my chest. Then I watched as Jessa reached up and clasped his hand and I nearly lost it.

I swallowed hard, trying to force down the flutter now rising into my chest. “No, you can call me Embers.”

Desperate for a distraction, I searched our surroundings for the arrival monitors. When I spotted them just a few feet away, I made a beeline for them, dragging the other two along as I went.

My mind was still whirling from the onslaught of inappropriate feelings that had hit me after being on the receiving end of Jack Cole’s trademark smirk. No amount of daydreaming could have ever prepared me for that.

I had to scan the large screen in front of me three times before I was actually able to absorb any of the information.

“Okay,” I glanced up at the clock above the monitors. “Aunt May's flight is on time, but we were early so it shouldn't be any problem to get you to the ticket counter of your choice and make it back to the gate in time to meet her.” Halfway through my statement I had redirected it at Jack who seemed surprisingly less enthused by the news than I had expected.

He was waving his hand, already dismissing the idea. “Oh, I don't want to screw up your plans.”

Not understanding, I insisted, “Not at all. It's just my sister. And she doesn't expect me to be on time anyway. So, where are we headed?”

I had already started walking again when I felt myself jerked to a stop by Jack who was still standing in place.

“You know, I just spent the last six hours on a plane, I'm in no hurry to get back on one. Let's just go and meet your sister and I can figure things out after.” As he said it, he took several steps into the opposite direction headed toward the arrival gates, gently tugging Jessa and me along as he did so.

“But wouldn't you rather just hurry up and get out of here?” I hissed as I scurried to catch up with him. “I mean, the longer you hang around, the more likely someone will recognize you sooner or later.”

“Nah, I think I'm in good hands with you.” He turned back to wink at me. “Besides, I kinda want to see you break out the German tourist routine.”

I shook my head, laughing. Partially because the thought of breaking into German improv sounded downright hilarious, and partially because this entire thing was so entirely bizarre it was either laugh or black out…and blacking out seemed like an ineffective move just then.

So, the three of us made our way to the arrivals, doing our best to blend in with the multitude of other travelers being shuffled along the large corridors of the airport.

When we reached the gate, Jessa wasted no time in pulling us over to the wall of windows from where she was able to watch the airplanes as they came and went.

It wasn't long before two women standing close by began to take notice of Jack. Huddled together closely, I overheard them whispering excitedly to one another. I peered over at Jack. Even with his face somewhat hidden in the shadow of his fedora and his trademark tats covered, he was entirely too recognizable.

Swaying any diehard female fans would require total dedication to my cause.

“Das Wetter hier ist echt toll, oder?” I nodded at the window as I spoke. “Wenn das jeden Tag so ist, wird das ein echt toller Urlaub, meinst Du nicht?”

This time I directed my attention back to Jack and waited for his response. Without skipping a beat, he fell right into character, a minor part all things considered, and replied with a confident sounding ‘Uh-huh’ as though he had understood perfectly.

“Ja, denke ich auch!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as the two women walked away looking sorely disappointed.

Jack leaned in and whispered, “Nice.” Adding an appreciative nod at the end.

“Thank you, thank you.” I bowed playfully. When I stood upright again, I saw Jessa’s hand fly up into the air. She waved it around with excitement.

“There she is!”

Buried in the sea of people marching toward us, a small pink Mohawk could be spotted bobbing up and down as the flood of passengers came streaming in through the arrivals gate.

I felt Jessa slip out of my grip as she launched herself a few feet forward and began jumping up and down shouting with elation.

“Aunt May! Over here!” Her little hands were still flapping back and forth above her head when May caught a glimpse of them and began to veer away from the crowd and in our direction. I watched as my sister’s eyes traveled from Jessa to me and then over to Jack where they did a clear double take before jumping back to lock eyes with me in search of an explanation.

Try as I might, even as a twin, I had yet to master the skills of telepathy. So, I simply reverted to my standard crooked grin and shoulder shrug, reserved for situations such as these.

“Hello...” May’s tone was tentative at best as she knelt down to catch Jessa who sprinted forward.

“Hi!” Jessa’s sweet enthusiasm was still bubbling out of her as she loudly whispered in her aunt’s ear. “We're playing pretend. My name isn't Jessa, it's Jasmin. And Jack Cole is Brady. Who do you want to be?”

“Um, I don't know. How about you pick?” May pulled back to look at her niece with an unwavering confusion still lingering on her face.

Unaware of the unusual circumstances of her current situation, Jessa beamed back at her.

“Okay, you can be Mother Gothel.”

May snorted. “Gee, thanks.”

I leaned down in an attempt to help move the conversation along.

“Or, she can be Ariel.”

Jessa seemed perfectly fine with that.

“Okay.”

Meanwhile, I noticed Jack hadn’t said anything since May showed up. I turned back to make the official introduction when I saw him curiously studying the two of us. I’d seen that look plenty of times before. May and I were identical. Well, our faces were anyway. Something people tended to only become aware of after they saw everything else. Like May’s pink hawk and various tats or my long jet black and purple locks and the fact that I wore a wardrobe that looked like a mixture of painting attire and beach wear.

Suffice it to say, there were plenty of things about us that people found distracting before they had the chance to look close enough and realize we were each other’s mirror image.

“Twins,” I mumbled stupidly. I always felt the need to confirm what was pretty self-explanatory.

“Yeah, I got that,” Jack grinned. “Ariel, nice to meet you.” He held his hand out toward my sister and she took it, moving like the tin man from Oz after he had begun to rust.

“Yeah, you too...Brady?!” She was staring directly at me.

“I'll explain later.” I completely ignored the impatient look in May’s eyes demanding I start talking now. “Where to next?”

“Baggage claim?” Jack offered.

May was too busy still boring into me with her stare to realize she had been spoken to. When she finally became aware of it, she smiled awkwardly.

“I only have my carry on.” As if the words alone hadn’t been explanation enough, she lifted her bright fuchsia duffle bag decked out in all things Beatles, for everyone to see.

Brady took it from her and started walking. “Cool. Let's get out of here then.”

Wait. What?

“Don't you want to try and get another flight?” I called after him, still frozen in place beside the wall of windows.

“You know, I can just take care of that later. It'll probably be easier by phone anyway.” He had barely even slowed down. Apparently, the California stop applied to more than just driving. “Besides, I'm starving. How about I take you ladies out for lunch? As a thank you for saving my butt earlier.”

May nodded, “I could eat.”

Then Jessa took things up a notch by jumping up and down and squealing, “Yes! Yes! I want to go to lunch!” Seriously, the kid was acting like she’d just been offered a free trip to Disney World.

“Looks like we're going to lunch then.” I finally followed the rest of my party, but at a considerably slower pace. This whole thing had just gone from surreal to alternate dimension and I needed a little distance to regain some sort of perspective. Only there was no distance great enough to help me fully comprehend how Jack Cole had jumped from my TV screen and into my life.

Save The Date - And so it begins...

Chapter 1

     “Are you done yet?!” A wave of steam hit me as I threw open the bathroom door.

     “Does it look like I’m done?” It did not.

     “Hurry up! I need to be at work in less than thirty minutes and it’s going to take me fifteen just to get there!” I wiped the mirror with my sleeve to assess my hair. Nope. Skipping the wash would not be an option.

     Suddenly the shower curtain flew back.

     “You could always join me.” Any other day the sight of Tyler standing there with water droplets pearling on his perfectly smooth skin, light dancing in the dew as he flexed his muscles, would have been a welcome image. Today, I just found it annoying.

     “That is it! From now on, you can’t sleep over anymore,” I yelled as I stormed from the bathroom.

     I was barely two feet back into my bedroom when I nearly tripped over Tyler’s shoes. I picked them up and hurled them into the nearest corner. “And pick up you stuff! A girl could get killed in here!”

     Tyler and I had been dating for nearly a year now, and up until recently, things had been amazing. Then, out of the blue, he had decided it was time to take our relationship to the next level. So, before I knew it, he had brought over a box of his things and I had been forced to vacate a drawer for them.

     If you knew me, and I mean, knew me at all, you would know that there are two things I cannot stand. One, being late and two, someone messing with my stuff.

     Blame it on the fact that I’m an only child. Blame it on me being a total control freak. I don’t care. Either way, I was not fond of the idea of having to move all of my belongings over, which now suddenly had nowhere to go, just so he could have a place to keep his underwear and spare phone charger. To make matters worse, one drawer never seemed quite enough.

     All of a sudden, he was adding shoes to my closet. Hanging extra towels on my towel rack. It was like he was freaking moving in.

     “It’s all you.” He stood there, dripping water on my hardwood floors. It was all I could do not to choke the living daylights out of him. Instead, I closed my eyes and silently counted to ten.

     “Listen. This isn’t working. I realize this is a total cliché, but - It’s me. Not you. I can’t take it. I’m just not cut out for a real relationship. It’s making me crazy. And what’s worse, it’s making me hate you.”

     I handed him a towel while he stood there completely dumbstruck. “Do me a favor and wipe up the floor. I really need to get in the shower.”

     By the time I got back out, Tyler was gone. So was all of his crap.

    

I got to work twenty minutes late. I barely had enough time to stop in my office to grab the sketches I needed and then run all the way to the presentation room in the back where the meeting had already started without me.

I was about to knock and let myself in, when my assistant Stephanie came at me, outstretched hand yielding a hot and delicious coffee.

“Oh my God, Steph. I love you,” I whispered. Now her I would let move in, in a heartbeat.

I took one quick sip and then braced myself for what was waiting on the other side of the door.

“Good morning, Calista Joy. So nice of you to join us.” Even at my age, you knew you were in trouble when your mother used your middle name.

“So sorry I’m late. I had an unforeseen circumstance. Either way, I apologize for keeping you all waiting.”

This was our fourth meeting this week with the bride-to-be and today she had brought along a whole new slew of people. The wedding itself was only three months away and nothing had been finalized as of yet. Not even the dress. I’d provided her with seven sketches in the last six months and she had found a problem with all of them. I had two more for her today. After this, I was making an appointment for her at Kleinfeld’s.

These issues weren’t uncommon for brides with limitless funds. I think it’s the feeling of knowing the sky’s the limit and worrying they’ll miss out on something even better than what they’ve already seen that overwhelms them. Regardless, it was annoying, not to mention stressful. But I kept my mouth shut.

At twenty-three I was the youngest dress designer in the city. I’m sure most people assumed that my extensive client list stemmed solely from working in the confines of my mother’s shadow, but the truth was, I had talent.

Sure, my mother’s connections had granted me opportunities early on that most designers only dreamed of. Starting at sixteen I was spending my summers doing internships with all the big names in bridal wear. At eighteen, I even ventured off to France for a bit before coming home to start school at Parson’s.

Once I graduated it seemed stupid not to take my mother up on her offer to set up shop in her shop. I was in need of a job and she had been wanting for some time to add ‘custom bridal dresses’ to her list of services. It was a win/win.

Except on days like today, where it felt like we were all losing.

“I’m not sure how I feel about this neckline. I thought I would like it better this way, but now that I’m seeing it with the full skirt, it just doesn’t look right.” Madison, our bride, was scrunching up her nose like a piglet. Her rosy cheeks and strawberry blonde hair were doing nothing to offset the visual. Nor was it helping that I kind of wanted her to look like a pig at that point. Or a cow. Really, any farm animal would have done the trick.

I watched as she flipped back and forth between the two new sketches, shaking her head and distorting her face in a variety of expressions, one more unsightly than the next while the women sitting to either side of her mimicked her every move.

“I’m sorry, I’m just not feeling like these are for me, you know? I mean, they always say, when you finally find the right dress you just know.” She handed the sketches over across the table where I carelessly slid them back into my folder. I had known they were hideous all along. Pretty sure I had told her they would be when we discussed the changes she wanted me to make.

“Completely understandable, Madison. And that’s absolutely true. Finding your wedding dress is always love at first sight. When you see it, you always know.” I reached down into my bag and pulled out another sketch. It was a ballsy move, but I had nothing to lose at this point.

“I may have one more for you. It’s a design I was saving for my collection. I was actually considering planning the entire line around it, so I probably shouldn’t even show it to you…” The moment I placed it in front of her, Madison’s eyes lit up.

“OMG! This is it. This is my dress,” she squealed loudly, eagerly showing the image to all of her friends.

It was the first sketch I’d ever drawn for her. She had shot it down in two seconds flat two months ago, but now, it was the one.

     Once the whole dress debacle was finally over, my mother was able to finalize all of her plans as well. Suddenly, Madison had no problems making any decisions. Everything my mother suggested sounded perfect to her and all she did anymore was nod and smile, all the while never even taking her eyes from the sketch of her dream gown.

     In spite of how annoyed I’d been with her these past months, there was no escaping the high that followed anytime a bride fell in love with a dress that I’d created for her. There was something absolutely amazing about knowing that I’d played a part in bringing someone’s childhood fantasy to life. And let’s face it, that’s basically what weddings are. A childhood fantasy. Only unlike the ones we had about jumping off of rooftops and soaring through the air like Superman, we’re actually dumb enough to pursue this one.

     In case you hadn’t noticed, I had extremely mixed feelings when it came to marriage. On the one hand, I’d clearly dedicated my life to love and the elusive, possibly imaginary, happily ever after. On the other, I was a jaded, love hating cynic who wasn’t about to fall for any of that crap herself.

     “So, what was the unforeseen circumstance today?” My mother was standing in the open doorway to my office, casually sipping what I could only assume was some plain organic tea of one flavor or another. More than likely it was green or chamomile. I made a face just thinking about it.

     “Tyler. But not to worry. It won’t happen again.” I reached for my coffee, my second cup of the day. God bless Steph. She’d had it sitting on my desk waiting for me as soon as I walked in after that torturous meeting.

     Her curiosity piqued, my mother came all the way in and had a seat on the sofa along the back wall. “And why exactly are you so sure it won’t happen again?”

     “Because I broke up with him.” I made sure to sound as casual as possible. As of yet, no unpleasant feelings regarding the sudden break up had surfaced and I was hoping to keep it that way for as long as possible.

     My mother just shook her head. “What was it this time, Cal?”

     “You were there, you already know. He’s the reason I was late.” If that wasn’t reason enough, I didn’t know what was.

     “You, my darling daughter, have commitment issues.” She laughed at me as she stood up and began to leave.

     “Oh, this coming from the woman who hasn’t been in a relationship in seven years.” Maybe even longer. As far as I knew, there had been no one since the divorce.

     “That’s because I’m perfectly happy being committed to myself.” She smiled that ‘I’m your mother and I know everything’ smile and then walked out.

     She was barely out of the room when my phone started blowing up. Tori. She and I’d been friends since first grade. More importantly, Tyler was her boyfriend Kyle’s older brother. She’d set us up herself and had no doubt been planning our double weddings and baby showers ever since. I didn’t have to read a single one of her text messages to know what they were about.

Seven jingles later and I bypassed reading and simply hit call.

“You don’t break off a year-long relationship with someone while they’re standing there completely naked. It’s not fair. It makes the dumpee vulnerable and it’s just bad manners, Cal!”

“First of all, he was not naked he was wearing a towel, and second of all, don’t even get me started on bad manners. I can assure you, when it comes to practicing proper etiquette, Tyler does a sub-par job at best. I have two stains on my hardwood floor the shape of his feet caused by water damage this morning to prove it.” I didn’t know why I was even bothering. I’d never win this one anyway.

“What if he was the one, Cal? What if he was the one and you threw him out because he got your floor wet?” This was ridiculous.

“He wasn’t the one, Tor.” I rolled my eyes knowing she wouldn’t be able to see it and reached for my coffee. It was cold. Between my mother and her, a perfectly innocent cup of heavenly brew had gone to waste. I shook my head in disgust at their recklessness.

Meanwhile, Tori ranted on, “How do you know? How do you know he wasn’t the one? He could have been.”

“No Tor, he couldn’t have been.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because if he had been the one he would have known better than to hog the shower. He wasn’t the one.”

I could hear her grumbling things to herself. I didn’t have to be able to make out the words to get the gist of it. This was hardly my first lecture. For as long as I could remember, Tori had been obsessed with one thing and one thing only – falling in love. From the time we were eleven I had spent every Sunday evening planted on her sofa, watching some ridiculous Hallmark movie or another. Then when we turned thirteen, things got a little more intense as she added boy bands and that guy from the OC to the mix. It’s fairly safe to say, Tori has been boy crazy since before she was old enough to appreciate the benefits of having one.

I, on the other hand, was always a bit more reserved in this area. Maybe because I grew up in a home where love was a convenience and not a passion. Or maybe just because Tori had the whole thing covered already for the both of us. Either way, while she was busy fantasizing about the way Kyle might propose to her one day, the only weddings on my mind were those of my clients.

“Do you still need me on the line for this or can I get back to work?” I had two more meetings to prepare for and I wasn’t remotely ready. I was already going to have to work straight through lunch as it was.

“Why can’t you just be a normal girl for once in your life, Cal? What is so wrong with falling in love and living happily ever after? Do you really want to be alone forever?”

I dropped the stack of files I had pulled from my drawer onto my desk, making a loud clapping sound in the process.

“Who said I was going to be alone forever? I’m twenty-three, Tor. And this is the twenty-first century. It’s fine if you want to get married and settle down. But don’t act like it’s insane for me to be single right now. I’ve got shit to do and I’m not wasting my time on some asshole who’s going to hold me back. Even if it is just by making me late for a meeting.”

I could hear her sigh loudly on the other end. A clear sign of surrender. Except I knew it was only temporary.

“Fine. Go do you.”

“No one else does it better.”

“See you Sunday?”

“Of course.” As I said it, I made a little note reminding me to check the TV listings for this weekend’s movie. Over the years I’d learned that most of them fell into three basic categories – single mom meets troubled stranger and falls in love, work-a-holic/ jaded woman falls for the silent but strong country guy, and last, but certainly not least, the sweet innocent girl meets sweet innocent boy, but due to massive miscommunications and odd misunderstandings, they don’t actually wind up together until three minutes before the movie ends. This category tended to always come equipped with some sweet senior doling out advice to the innocent ones, which somehow made it more bearable than the other two. Those in turn required a great deal more chocolate to endure and I wanted to be prepared.

When I finally got Tori off the phone, I dove right into sketching. Aside from Steph popping in to drop off a veggie and hummus platter from the deli downstairs, I didn’t see or speak to anyone until I was done, at which point I found myself having to make another run for it down the hall as I was showing up late for my second meeting of the day. Stupid Tyler.

    

“Hey Burke, you wanted to see me?” I was standing in my boss’s office.

     “Yeah. How long have you been workin’ here now, you think? Seven, eight years?”

     It was nine. “Something like that. What’s up?”

     “Emerson, how old do you think I am?”

     It was an odd question and I sure as shit didn’t want to answer it. But I did. “Old, Burke. You’re goddamn old.”

     He laughed. “Hell yes, I am. So, how much longer you think you’re going to need before you can start takin’ over so I can get some rest?”

     I frowned. “You thinkin’ about retirin’?”

     “No, I’m not thinkin’ about it. I’m doin’ it. Already talked it over with everyone, and we all agree, there’s no one better than you.” Burke stood up from behind his desk and held out his hand. “You’ve got six months kid. Then it’ll be all you.”

     Speechless, I met his hand with mine, and we shook on it. I was six months from having it all.

It's Kinda My Thing - And so it begins...

Chapter One

Fucking A. This was going to be awkward. Casually, or as casually as I could, given the circumstances, I scanned the church from one end of the pews to the other. The place was gigantic. Bigger than any church I’d ever been in. Bigger than I expected any church in Las Vegas to be. I couldn’t imagine this place ever filling up with locals. If it did, the bulk of them were likely to burst into flame shortly after walking through the doors. It wasn’t called Sin City for nothing. Which of course begged the question, how fireproof was I feeling today?
From what I could gather I’d landed on the groom’s side of the aisle. Seemed appropriate enough since that’s who I was there to see. Sort of. I hadn’t gotten as close to the front as I’d wanted, but for safety sake, it was probably better that way. In fact, the more time I had to check out the other attendees, the more convinced I became that Carmine needed to start arranging for some type of a security detail.
        Aside from fearing I might start to smolder at any given moment just by being present, there were some pretty scrappy looking girls on the bride’s side I wasn’t going to want to throw down with. Judging by their matchy-matchy blonde hair and blue eyes, their perfect little size two bodies, fake boobs and pastel colored dresses, these girls had sorority sisters written all over them.
I hadn’t gone to college or joined any secret same sex societies (frankly I don’t see how that would have been much fun) but I still knew those chicks were hardcore about their sisters. They took vows and shit. They’d for sure be coming after me two seconds after I did what I came here to do, and the shoes I was wearing were not intended for running.
Which was another thing I’d be talking to Carmine about. If I was going to have to keep dressing up for these occasions, he was going to have to spring for a new work wardrobe. Not that I had a shortage of fancy dresses at home, but I wasn’t willing to sacrifice any of them for a church aisle brawl or football inspired getaway run. So, I’d had to make other arrangements.
I glanced down the length of my body. It was covered in some serious gold sequin action from head to toe. My choices at the thrift store had been somewhat limited. Not surprisingly so since the girls unloading their old clothes there were likely a combo of strippers and hookers, or some variation of the two. Not that I didn’t like the dress. It was just likely to garner me more attention than the white one was going to get the bride. It was just as well though. I’d be needing people’s attention here shortly.
As if on cue, the music started and the bridal party began to make their way along the aisle to where the pastor and ‘groom to be’ were waiting. I’d tried repeatedly to get a good look at the poor schmuck ever since I’d arrived, but I had yet to see anything beyond the thick black hair on the back of his head. Just going by his overall build and general air of confidence as he stood there chatting it up with the preacher before the ceremony began, it stood to reason he was at least halfway decent looking. Which somehow made my mission slightly easier.
This was a new conclusion I came to after I’d spent the whole drive here, and the previous two hours (since being assigned this gig), debating whether or not I was doing something absolutely horrible or saving the guy’s life in the long run. I mean, even if I wasn’t about to convey the particular message I had for him, anytime you helped someone escape the shackles of marriage, didn’t that count as assisting in dodging a bullet? Did to me.
Meanwhile, I was backtracking so far into my own arguments, I’d stopped paying attention to what was happening in the chapel. Apparently, the bride had arrived and was now standing up front beside her man. Good. At least this was moving along fairly quickly.
Considering the amount of bridesmaids and the ridiculous little trinkets they’d handed out upon everyone’s arrival, it wasn’t much of a shocker when the bride chose to open the ceremony with a poem she’d written just for the groom. Thankfully, I was too far out of ear shot to make out most of it. As it was, my gag reflexes were maxed out.
Then, at last, I heard it.
"If any of you has reasons why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace.”
And there I went. I was on my feet. I hit play on my music…and I began to sing.

“I object

You can’t say yes

Do it

And your life’s a mess

She cheated on you

She’s done it before

Just thought you should know

Your bride is a whore.”

I heard a unanimous gasp in surround sound thanks to the tall ceilings and endless tile. I didn’t stick around for anything after that. My shoes in hand, I was squeezing past all the other guests in my row while they were still too stunned to stop me. It wasn’t until I reached the aisle, that shit hit the fan.
“Rumor?”
What the fuck? I spun around on my bare heel, nearly slipping on some stupid flower petal. “Brody?” This was unexpected.
“What are you doing here? Are you…are you trying to break up my wedding?” I couldn’t blame him for stuttering. Given the chance, someday I’d make fun of him for it, but I couldn’t say it was much of a surprise. I’d figured on the groom taking the news badly. I just hadn’t figured on the groom being Brody Holmes.

 ***

Rumor Davis. Holy Shit. I’d seen her earlier. Fuck, everyone had seen her earlier in that number she was wearing, but my eyes hadn’t traveled much higher than the slit that went all the way up to her hips, so it hadn’t been until I heard her voice that I recognized her. Almost instantly, memories of us came flooding back into my mind. Moments which definitely should not have seared through my brain so vividly on my wedding day.
Feeling busted after taking an impromptu trip down the gutters of my past, I turned back to look at Hailey, fully prepared to charm my way out of the monumental mess my past was causing us. Then I saw her face. It was distorted in horror. And guilt.
“Wait. What were you singing about?” Rumor had moved several feet in the short time I’d taken my eyes off of her. She’d yet to say anything to me other than my name.
“Um, I don’t generally deliver an encore unless it’s paid for ahead of time.” She shrugged awkwardly and proceeded to tiptoe toward the exit. Like avoiding the soles of her feet would somehow make it less noticeable that she was making a run for it.
“Dude. She said Hailey cheated on you.” Kyle. My best man. Best friend.
Still too fucking confused to make sense out of any of it, I turned back to the one person I thought I could always count on. “Haise?”
The fact that tears were welling up in her eyes were already a pretty damn good answer. “I’m sorry.” Then it was undeniably confirmed.
“Fuck sorry.” I snatched the ring box from Kyle’s hand and threw it back into the choir loft. Then, I stormed out of the church. I wasn’t nearly as graceful or inconspicuous about it as Rumor had been, but the end results were still the same.